Bus To Baton Rouge - Live (2003/The Fillmore, San Francisco)

I had to go back to that house one more time
 To see if Camellias were in bloom
 For so many reasons it's been on my mind
 The house on Belmont Avenue
 Built up on cinderblocks off of the ground
 What with the rain and the soft swampy land
 By the sweet honeysuckle that grew all around
 Were switches when we were bad
 I took a bus to Baton Rouge... etc.,
 All the front rooms were kept closed off
 I never liked to go in there much
 Sometimes the doors they'd be locked
 'Cause there were precious things I couldn't touch
 The company couch covered in plastic
 Little books about being saved
 The dining room table nobody ate at
 And the piano nobody played
 (Repeat)
 There was this beautiful lamp I always loved
 A seashore was painted on the shade
 It would turn around when you switched on the bulb
 And gently rock the waves
 The driveway was covered with tiny white seashells
 A fig tree stood in the backyard there are other things I remember, as well
 But to tell them would be just too hard
 Ghosts in the wind that blow through my life
 Follow me wherever I go
 I'll never be free from these chains inside
 Hidden deep down in my soul